


Truth be Told

by Fallingtowardsoblivion



Category: Merlin (BBC), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Is King, Arthur is a giant gushy puppy and can no longer lie about his feelings for Merlin say what, Arthur is thirsty af, Canon Era, Fluff, Funny, Hilarity Ensues, Humor, Identity Reveal, M/M, Magic Reveal, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Merthur - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Arthur, Oblivious Merlin, Reveal Fic, not crack but pretty damn close, prat Arthur, tbh there will probably be alcohol bc seriously this is MY fanfiction, this is going to be great lmfao, truth spell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallingtowardsoblivion/pseuds/Fallingtowardsoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't as though this was the first time Merlin had taken a spell for Arthur. Actually, it as around the 237th (though of course who here was counting?) and Merlin was getting pretty damn tired of jumping hither thither to protect the world's biggest ego. Only, this time was different, and after the pair manages to get hit with a truth spell, things just seem to go south... in all meanings of the term.</p><p>Or, the one time Arthur actually didn't have a filter and his constant, inner monologue of sexual frustration rears its ugly head, and Merlin is a bit too into magical puns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Ah haha not another truth spell reveal fic!
> 
> God I'm such a sucker for those smh. Well, this is unbetaed, and crap, but I hope you guys enjoy! (it's super duper cold right now so I'm going to go warm up now and hope y'all know where to go from here!)

1

 

The only thing going through Merlin’s mind as he flung himself in front of the spell which was (rather _rudely_ if he did say so himself) heading straight towards Arthur Pendragon was:

_Not again._

Because really. It wasn’t like Merlin had taken a spell for Arthur before.

Oh wait, he _had_. Multiple times, actually. So many times that if he had a damn gold-piece for every time he’d risked himself for Arthur, he would have at least five. (Probably closer to a chest full, but who here was counting? Oh yeah, Merlin. That’s who.)

Well anyway, it was all fine and dandy until the spell actually _collided_ with the warlock, who just so happened to be partially draped over His Majesty in his attempt at shielding the other man. An attempt that probably would’ve been exceedingly more _effective_ if Merlin just so happened to _not be a bloody beanpole_ of a man, and Arthur didn’t just so happen to have a severe sweet tooth that was leading the older man to become a bit _paunchy_ around the middle.

But the pair just so happened to be _just such_ , and therefore Merlin didn’t really do anything besides for get himself _also_ hit by said spell (in addition to a very indignant King Arthur, who was turning a bit red in the face from having Merlin sprawled across his lap in the middle of the bloody throne room).

The sorcerer who cast the damned thing had disappeared in a puff of vaguely stinky smoke just as a certain Sir Gwaine decided to do a moderately impressive barrel-roll-side-kick -squat-and-apprehend move. Though flashy, in the face of a now non-existent attacker the move managed to fall flat.

It was in the aftershocks of said moderately impressive move that Arthur finally came to his senses, staring (his face now a _fully red_ hue) at the manservant in his lap. “ _Merlin_! What in the hell are you doing in my lap?!”

It was in that moment that the warlock began to get a sinking feeling about the spell. After all, neither of them were dead…

He said, by compulsion, “Protecting you, of course.” Merlin frowned. He hadn’t meant to be so straightforward, and by the snort that emanated from somewhere above and to the left of where his head was currently drooping over the side of the royal throne, Merlin figured Arthur probably agreed. Trying to regain the upper hand, Merlin shoved himself up in Arthur’s lap (and was satisfied when his elbow accidentally collided with a particular _something_ -something and caused the king to give a particular ‘ _oof_!’). “What the hell did you _think_ I was doing, _sire_?”

“Finally coming to your senses.” Arthur’s eyes widened as he clamped his mouth shut with an audible click.

He quickly tried to regain his regality and calm, saying, “I mean – finally giving into my inherent good looks and charm.” At _this_ confession, Arthur actually raised a gloved hand to cover his mouth, as though afraid of what would come out.

“I mean - bloody get me off – I mean get the bloody hell _off_ of me, already!” Arthur sputtered a moment later, unceremoniously shoving Merlin from his lap in a bout of anger that probably stemmed from his growing embarrassment... and something else.

Merlin frowned from where he was seated on the floor, looking up at Arthur in a rather thoughtful manner that the king had long ago dubbed ‘dangerous’ and ‘probably the look of a man about to instantaneously combust from over-exertion’. Merlin, though, was oblivious to all the king’s flustered stuttering, instead thinking exceedingly hard about the events that had just transpired.

_The spell. What did it do?_

Merlin’s question was answered soon enough, as Leon stepped forward from the small crowd of people gathered within the throne room, and asked, “Sire, if I may ask, what seems to be the matter?”

“Well, for starters, I haven’t had sex in _months_.” Arthur clamped his gloved hand back over his mouth at this confession, a look of dawning horror settling on his features.

 _Oh. Oh._ The warlock thought, feeling vaguely concerned as Arthur began to shout at everybody to get out, and for Merlin to take him to Gaius already. _That’s why that sounded so familiar. It was a_ truth _spell_.

The warlock began to giggle at this realization, because really – Arthur under the influence of Gwaine’s particular ‘wine’ was damn well funny enough, but Arthur under the influence of a _truth_ spell -!

Then Merlin promptly began to choke at an exceedingly dangerous rate at the sudden realization that he, too, had been hit by said truth spell. (His impromptu choking was also partially because of the _death grip_ a certain prat had on the back of Merlin’s neck as he hauled the manservant through the winding halls of the castle – but Merlin was kinda mad at Arthur for just dumping him on the floor, and was rather against _acknowledging_ the man at the moment.)

It was a miracle that the pair made it to Gaius’ chambers in one piece.

***

“Well, sire, it appears as though you are, as usual, of impeccable health.” Gaius said, straightening himself up (the motion causing a seriously of moderately concerning _popping_ sounds in the process). Arthur was seated on the patient’s cot, looking for all the world as though he were _constipated_.

Merlin, who was lurking in the shadows in a rather _broody_ manner, snorted softly to himself.

Gaius shot him a glare, but said nothing.

“Sire, do you have any discomfort or pain?”

Arthur responded automatically. “Only the pain of existence and a one-sided romance.”

Gaius’ face quickly contorted into a moderate frown at this, while Arthur appeared to be trying to shoves his fingers into his eyes in order to put himself out of his misery.

Merlin merely stood near the back of the room, the dawning truth of the pair’s honesty making the manservant more than a little uncomfortable.

“Sire?” The physician slowly asked.

“I – I don’t know what’s come over me.” Was all Arthur managed to bite out.

Gaius seemed to have a dawning realization of his own, if the way his eyebrows did a particular bobbing motion across his forehead had anything to do with anything. “Sire. Lie to me.”

Arthur frowned, but complied. “Leon is a woman.”

Merlin frowned at this, because that was a very _specific_ , very revealing factoid to part with. And a particularly odd, if not unflattering, image.

Gaius frowned too, though out of something deeper than the contemplation of a certain head knight in women’s undergarments. Then that dawning look again crossed the old man’s face. “Ah! I think I know what it is.”

He turned to Arthur, then, fixing him with a stern look. “My Lord, is Leon a woman?”

Arthur’s mouth opened before he even seemed to realize he was talking. “From what I’ve seen that’s not the case, though of course –“ The king’s eyes flew wide as he, once again, clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Sire….” Gaius’ words were hesitant. “I believe that you have been cursed to tell the truth, when asked.”

It was at that moment that the severity of the situation began to sink in. The room was quiet, and Merlin was fidgeting uncomfortably in the background even as Arthur and Gaius exchanged equal looks of horror.

After all, Camelot’s two biggest liars had just been hit with a truth spell.

 

***


	2. Gaius, Bearer of Good News (Not. That's A Lie. What the Hell, Gaius?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo, behold? An update?

2

 

“So… How long is this going to last, Gaius?” Arthur said, his face drawn with horror. He looked a bit ashen (and rather as though he were ready to vomit all over the Court Physician and all other objects within a _four foot radius_ of His Majesty), if Merlin did say so himself. He was halfway tempted to warn Gaius. But then he brushed the idea off.

After all, the old physician needed to work on his reflexes (if Merlin did say so _himself_ ).

Gaius set a grave pair of eyes on Arthur, wholly unawares of the scheming of his personal assistant. Said scheming personal assistant, though, gulped in the background, because he knew from experience that ‘a grave pair of eyes’ on Gaius never bade well.

“Sire, I must do more research on this specific spell before I can be certain... but from what I can tell, it will last at least a week. If it even wears off, that is.”

Arthur’s face froze in a mask of pure desperation and despair at this revelation. Merlin would’ve laughed at the comical value of Arthur’s mouth hanging open in such a manner if it wasn’t for his own nearly _matching_ terror.

“I – Gaius, you don’t understand – I can’t just go around like this!” Arthur exclaimed, “I – I have things that are –“ He paused, correcting his exclamation,  “state secrets! I have secrets that if revealed could undermine the whole workings of Camelot!”

Gaius shot the royal another pitying look, saying, “Sire. This is truly all I can do for you at this moment. My only suggestion for now would be to retire early tonight, and, if I may make a suggestion, claim sickness for the next few days.”

And Arthur really couldn’t do anything else save clamp his mouth closed and nod his head in a rather jerky manner.

“Well… I best be… retiring, then.” Arthur said, shooting something that was uncomfortably similar to _puppy eyes_ at his Court Physician.

Said Court Physician carefully avoided said puppy eyes, and instead was busy fixing what could only be considered a look of whole-hearted scorn on Merlin until His Majesty had exited the room.

“Merlin!” Gaius exclaimed, exasperated, as soon as Arthur left.

“Me?! What? I didn’t do anything, Gaius, I swear to it. You saw with your own eyes – cataracts and all – how the spell came out of nowhere and –“ The royal manservant was cut off mid sentence as Gaius clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Silence, Merlin, is a virtue.” Merlin tried to say something more that came out rather wet sounding and made Gaius wonder about how sanitary his hand would be after this whole affair. “That evidently you do not have.” The physician finished, sighing as Merlin shook his head in affirmation.

Oh, they were all _doomed_.

“Merlin, if you would let me speak for even a moment, you would know that I was not blaming you!”

 

***

 

The chamber was silent, save for the soft tapping of fingers on a table.

Merlin swallowed, looking up to see Arthur, seated opposite him.

Staring.

The warlock blinked, opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it immediately at the Look of Doom His Majesty shot him.

Merlin pursed his lips, and went back to staring at the table.

The tapping went on.

And on.

And on.

And _on_ –

“Sire –“ Merlin choked out, “Wh –“

“ _Merlin_ … If you value your _head_ being firmly attached to your _persons_ ,” Arthur enunciated each word.  “Then you will not finish that question.” His eyes narrowed in a manner that was probably meant to be threatening.

Merlin found His Majesty instead looked rather _indigested_ , and vaguely wondered if he should offer said King a form of digestive-promoting concoction, courtesy of Gaius. But then Arthur was squinting rather threateningly at the servant, and Merlin decided that if Arthur was too thick-headed to save himself from evidently sever indigestion, and instead was just going to keep on glaring at Merlin (who hadn’t even done anything!), then he _deserved_ the fate he’d created.

So, Merlin kept silent, and hoped that His Majesty did something rather embarrassing as a result of his thick skull – like fart in front of the whole court.

A small smile appeared on his lips at the thought. It was a very appealing thought. He tried to bite the inside of his mouth in order to stop the smile. (Not that it actually _worked_. The thought of Arthur being so stubborn and subjecting himself to public humiliation because of it was just too _satisfying_.)

 Arthur squinted some more, frowning at Merlin’s growing grin.

“ _Mer_ lin…” He hissed.

“Hmm?” Merlin said, not looking at anything in particular.

“Do I even want to know why you have that _absurd_ look on your face?” The king said, exasperated.

“No, probably not.” Merlin said automatically. Then looked up, brow creasing, because – well, he’d said that _automatically_. He blinked a couple times, disoriented.

Looking over, Arthur appeared to be struggling with something – if the bug-eyed, fish-mouthed look on his face was anything to go by.

Merlin watched him struggled, jaw working, as though he were very much trying to keep his giant royal gob _shut_ – a valiant effort, though something Merlin knew to be in fact _impossible_.

The effort looked as though it was downright painful.

Merlin finally caved. “Gods, Arthur, what is it?”

“ _I-want-to-know-why-you-were-smiling_ – _Mer_ lin! What did I _just_ say about _asking questions_?” Arthur exclaimed, gritting his teeth as his eyes narrowed at the manservant across from him.

“Well you didn’t actually _say_ anything about asking questions, rather, you just _threatened_ me –“ Merlin responded sassily, maybe enjoying the compulsion he was under for a moment, until he caught the look of pure murder on Arthur’s face.

His mouth managed to snap shut with a startling _clack_.

And so the room descended once again to a tense, pained silence.

Arthur went back to tapping his finger, and Merlin vaguely got up and made a rather pitiable attempt at being busy, doing something with a sword and a belt and what, was that a loaf of bread - ?

It took all his willpower, but Arthur did not even blink as his manservant started doing unmentionable things with the royal possessions.

Actually, it was kind of entrapping…

“Might I suggest – “ Merlin began after he’d done away with a perfectly good loaf of bread, destroyed a singular boot and dulled two small knives because he was an _idiot_ and seemed to forget how to _sharpen a bloody blade_ correctly.

“No.” Arthur growled.

“But –“

_“Merlin.”_

“Yes, sire?”

“ _Get_. _Out_.” The King ground out, glowering.

“Right you are, sire,” Merlin said, nearly running from the tension in the room, “right you are!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. This is definitely not one of my main fics right now so updates will be... iffy. But hey, this isn't abandoned, so y'know that's a plus!


End file.
